


Not Today

by JEAikman



Series: Sarcastic, Charming (and sometimes Murderous) Assholes [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, Bucky Barnes Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hospitals, Hurt Tony, M/M, Major Character Injury, Waiting Rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2418584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JEAikman/pseuds/JEAikman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Tony doesn't want to grow old. He wants to die in blood and fire with the rush of battle the last thing that fuels his failing heart as he bleeds out saving the world. It's not that he's looking for death, but if it calls for him, he will heed it, and he will smile into its dark and cold embrace. Thor would understand such thoughts, he feels, his being raised a warrior prince and all.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>He doesn't want to go grey and white and balding, with liver spots and saggy skin – but he doesn't actually want to die right this second. He's got so much more to do before he dies. He's trying to breathe, he really is. </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Tony doesn't want to grow old. He wants to die in blood and fire with the rush of battle the last thing that fuels his failing heart as he bleeds out saving the world. It's not that he's looking _for_ death, but if it calls for him, he will heed it, and he will smile into its dark and cold embrace. Thor would understand such thoughts, he feels, his being raised a warrior prince and all.

 

He doesn't want to go grey and white and balding, with liver spots and saggy skin – but he doesn't actually want to die right this second. He's got so much more to do before he dies. He's trying to breathe, he really is.

 

Bucky's begging him to stay awake, to keep breathing, and he really doesn't want to make Bucky sad, because that means dealing with the Disappointed Face of Captain America. He doesn't have the energy for that face right now. He doesn't have much energy at all, in fact. He's using it to drag the air kicking and screaming into his heaving lungs.

 

“Breathe, Tony, come _on”_ is the constant and desperate litany from above him. He hates that note in Bucky's voice, all he wants is Bucky to be happy. And he wants to say something, he doesn't care how sappy – but all he can manage is a few garbled sounds between his tortuous and rattling breaths. Bucky's hands, metal and flesh, are pressed hard against Tony's chest, in which there is a bullet lodged.

 

They had just been going to get bagels. That was it. Nothing daring or heroic. That was what got to Tony the most – he wasn't going to go out in a blaze of glory, his death was just going to be a tragedy on the front page on all the newspapers. Stupid assassins.

 

He's so very tired – breathing doesn't feel worth the effort it's costing him. His world narrows – all he can see is Bucky's eyes, panicked and full of grief and he wants to let him know that he's _sorry_. He doesn't want to go. He doesn't want to die. Not when the best of his life has just happened to him.

“I'm so sorry” he whispers through blood tinged lips and his narrowed world goes dark.

 

 

Bucky hates this. The last he has seen of Tony before they wheeled him into the ambulance was his eyes closing and his breath stopping. Steve had appeared not long after and dragged him along to the hospital to wait, because he had just stood numbly in the middle of the street, his mind refusing to believe what his eyes had seen and his hands had felt.

 

He's washed the blood off them now – Steve said it was scaring the nurses.

 

Bucky wouldn't care, but he does it for Steve's sake.

 

The waiting is awful. No news either way – every time a nurse goes past he thinks that might be it, but they never come over to the two of them. Steve tries to reassure him, that no news is good news. But the hospital itself, with its sterile white walls – it makes him nervous, and that, coupled with the fact that Tony could be dead right now – he was taut as Clint's bowstrings. He doesn't pace. Steve does, he's never been one for standing still, but Bucky wants to reach and grab him by the back of the collar (like he used to when he was dragging him away from fights, he remembers that well enough) and dump him down on a chair.

 

He wants to punch the wall, but when he looks at his hand, he can still see some dried flecks of Tony's blood that he hasn't quite managed to get out of the bits where the plates join and overlap and he wants to throw up. He should have noticed. Should have shoved Tony out of the way. Should have somehow taken the bullet himself.

 

“Buck, stop it.” Steve pleads, because he knows where Bucky's mind is right now. He's so much better when Tony's been kidnapped, because he has someone to kill, a mission to complete. He doesn't do _waiting._ He knows that nothing he says will stop Bucky's anxieties, and truly, he's terrified himself that he's going to lose another friend.

 

His phone vibrates against its thigh and he checks it.

 

_Iakov gets first blood._

_-BW_

 

Steve allows himself a smile. They've clearly caught the would-be (he hoped it was only would-be) assassin. He shows the text to Bucky and is relieved by the small smile that earns him.

 

Just then, though, a stern-faced doctor marches up to them. His name is Dr. March. They've met him before, because he's one of the few Tony trusts. His eyes are grim, and he regards Bucky carefully before exchanging a glance with Steve. Then the second before he spoke seemed to drag on forever.

 

“Mr. Stark made it through the surgery.” Bucky felt himself let out a breath which he hadn't even realised he was holding. “Barring any complications, he should make a full recovery.” The world, which had narrowed only to the waiting for this news, fills again with the noise and smells of the hospital – children crying, machines whirring and beeping, and everything returns to full speed.

“Need a minute, Buck?” Steve asks, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Bucky shakes his head.

 

“No. I- I need to see him. Right now.” And fuck, if he doesn't sound like he's about to burst into tears. Steve nods, and the doctor leads them to the private room in the ICU, where Tony is hooked up to at least half a dozen machines.

“He looks so small.” Bucky whispers. “Stevie – he looks so _small_.” Steve nods, unable to say anything yet himself, and guides Bucky to the chair next to the bed. The doctor who they followed here stands at the doorway and sighs. Steve looks up, Bucky being far too interested in keeping an eye on Tony to ask anything.

“What is it, doc?”

“To be honest – I'm amazed he survived. Not that Tony Stark hasn't defied the expectations of doctors before, of course – but the blood-loss was severe. He will need time to recover, and try not to be alarmed if it takes a few days for him to wake up.”

“Of course. Thank you, doc.”

“I would say it was my pleasure, but -” Steve offers him a small smile in response. “Anyway. I've other patients to check up on. Let me know if anything changes.”

“We will. Thank you”

 

The doctor leaves, and Steve is left to watch Bucky fret and worry at Tony's side, and he can't help but remember how his friend did the same whenever they stuck Steve in hospital for whatever health-problem he had contracted at the time.

“He'll be okay, Buck” he tries to reassure. Bucky just sighs and sits back in his chair.

“This is the part I always hated. The waiting.”

“I know, but things are better now. Hospitals aren't what they were in our day, Buck.”

“I know, I know” Bucky replies, but Steve notes the way he frowns and his eyes drift to Tony's face again. “But he's so pale – the way you always got when you were real sick, and I -”

“I think we'll both feel better when he wakes up, Buck.”

“Yeah”. They stay there, with only the constant buzz of the machines as company, spending the rest of the night watching over the prone figure in the bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I found this on my laptop and had to continue it, because what is life without Tony hurts and Bucky feels? anyway, enjoy <3


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not sure whether I like this but you get a new chapter whilst I avoid uni work. Everyone wins, really

When Tony wakes, it's to bright white and the smell of hospital. Immediately he hates it and wants to escape, but as soon as he moves there's a hand on his shoulder, a familiar hand that he can't quite put a face to right now because his brain is fuzzy and he can't remember anything much of anything right now.

But he knows he can trust that hand to want him to be safe. The hand belongs to his friend, to Bucky's friend. Bucky's best friend. But why can't he remember the name?

  
"Tony?" There's a voice to go with the hand now, and it's so infuriatingly close to the tip of his tongue that he can taste it,

"Tony, are you okay?" The voice asks again and Tony peels his eyes open with a groan. A flash of blond hair and blue eyes sparkling with concern.  
"yeah fine." He croaks, his throat dry from lack of use. The blond sighs in relief and gets him some ice chips. They've done this before, when Tony was always recklessly throwing himself into danger - before Bucky, Steve would always- wait.

  
"Steve!" He exclaims, relieved to finally have that knowledge back. The man in question looks back at him, startled.  
"What?"  
"Your name is Steve."  
Steve pauses, looking stricken.  
"Please don't tell me you've forgotten who I am Tony."  
"No! God no. Just your name. But my head's not all together right now, all drugged up and stuff - I know exactly who you are, Capsicle. The name just took a bit."   
"Oh, thank God. It was bad enough with Bucky but if you-"

And Tony suddenly feels like a massive dick, even though he is the one in a hospital bed. He'd all but forgotten those first awful months of trying to bring Bucky back to himself, but it obviously still bothers Steve.  
"I..."  
"No apologies while you're sick. It's not your fault that the meds made you loopy. You just settle back down and don't pull your stitches or Bucky'll have a fit. And then maim me for letting you move at all." Tony groans - that's exactly what Bucky will do, and he knows it.

  
"I don't envy your doctors back in the day, Cap, if they had the Frowny Face of Doom to contend with." To his utter astonishment, Steve bursts into loud guffawing laughter at his words, unable to  do little else than try and remember to breathe whilst he did so. Tony is entirely bemused by this, and waits until Steve is done, and only raises an eyebrow in question.

"It's just - I thought I was the only one who called it that. And oh God, when he glares at everyone who disagrees with him - if he thinks you should stay in bed for two weeks, you'd better listen to him because it will be less painful for everyone   if you do."

"Aw, c'mon, Steve old buddy, old pal. Save me from my terrifyingly overprotective boyfriend." Tony pleads plaintively, but Steve is immune to desperate puppy dog faces and that is so not fair. So not fair.

"Tony, he's been worried sick about you. You quite literally died in his arms, so he has every right to hover over you and never let you out of his sight again."

Tony pauses. He hadn't known that little tidbit. It catches him off-guard and something of his panic must show on his face because Steve reaches for him and gives his arm a reassuring squeeze.  
"Hey, you're here now and we ain't gonna let you out of our sight for at least another month, alright? You are not going anywhere on your own and we will make sure someone is looking out for potential threats and-" Tony grins and waves away Steve's concerned rambling.  
"You're so sweet when you're worried, Capsicle" he laughs.

Steve doesn't. Tony gets, for the first time, that Steve saw him die too, and it's hitting him harder than he would show because right now he's trying to be strong for Tony.

"Hey, Forties, I'm here, and if I have my way I'll stay forever. No way I'm trusting you and the overprotective one armed care bear with the world after I'm gone."

"Are you planning on petitioning Odin for godhood? Because I doubt he would like it. You're too much like Loki for that." Tony just grins but doesn't get to answer because Bucky walks in at that very moment.

"Morning, dearest." Tony greets brightly. Bucky's own smile is faint and strained, but he moves to the bed and kisses his forehead. Almost manages to breathe without his breath hitching too. Tony angles his head up, staring and frowning. Bucky's hand cups his face, gently brushing his cheek, Tony could drown in the emotion he finds in those eyes.

"I thought you... I almost lost you, you jerk." And huh, if that isn't more emotion than Tony can deal with with, even drugged up to the gills, so he blurts out the first thing to come to mind.

"Steve thinks I'm too much like Loki so I can't be a god." Bucky blinks, but he speaks Tony's language, reads between the words, and besides which, he looks tea sleepy right now, like Steve used to after he'd got real sick.  
"I know I've not been back that long, but Loki is a god, right?"

They all laugh and let Tony settle back into sleep, and though it was said in jest, they might be able to figure a way for Tony to live longer, for the purely selfish reason that Bucky wants to keep him. Forever.


End file.
